Paint it Black
by Live.Write.Love01
Summary: "And just like that, you realize you have a problem. And you need help." Cat's life is a lie, shielded by a wall of happiness. And Jade is determined to break it down. Cade Friendship. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**P****aint ****I****t** _**B**__**lack**_

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><p>Waking up was the worst part of the day, a hassle. Surely, you were a morning bird and could wake up at any ungodly hour without complaint or nasty attitude (when did you ever have an attitude?). But you'd open your eyes each day to an empty house or loud, obnoxious snoring in the living room because all you have is a drunk father and your mother and brother only exist in your memories now (but you pretend they're alive everyday) - it'd do nothing to help you put on your morning façade of happiness. You'd wake up an hour earlier than you should because it takes you that long to get ready for school because you have to look <em>perfect<em> and it wouldn't be the same if you didn't.

But it wasn't like any of your friends noticed in the first place. There was an unmistakable sadness in those chocolate brown eyes of yours that glimmered no matter if there was a smile on your face and not one of them would comment on the strange things you blurt out – they would just look at you funny and give you strange faces and you knew what they were thinking.

_She's SO __**w e i r d.**_

And you were weird but you were different in your own way and that was why your father hated you. He wasn't accepting that you had a problem and he told you _somanytimes _that he would have preferred that you had died instead of your brother, Lucas – who was only at the tender age of 10 in a plane crash with your mother and you swore that sometimes you even wished that it was you instead too. That Lucas could grow up just like you had and live his life to the fullest. Once, he told you he wanted to be a singer and go to Hollywood arts too.

"_Just like you kitty-cat"_

You don't know what to say because the gears in your head are work at such an abnormal pace that all you can blurt out is your oh so famous catch-phrase "What's THAT supposed to mean?" because it sounded like he was insulting you and you were oh so easily offended it was ridiculous. Yet at the same time, he seemed more hurt than you.

Then your mother comes into play and you're sitting with her in the kitchen table the day before her flight to New York for a Broadway performance and you so badly wanted to go but you couldn't and she was taking Lucas instead. So you talked and talked about Hollywood arts, almost bragging, and about Sikowitz and how insane he is and your father makes a nasty comment that he was sure this so-called-teacher wasn't as insane as you were (and then a whole fight breaks out and he makes an appointment for your therapist again who shortly after, claimed she was retiring "early" which you of course didn't get). When he leaves the house you beg and beg your mother to take you with her but school comes first – but she'd never leave you forever she said, with that father who needs to learn how to accept that you're manic depressive.

When she promised that three years ago, you were painting your nails yellow and eating a red velvet cupcake and it soon became your favorite snack and color in the whole world.

Your father was absolutely horrified when, a year later, you dyed your hair that red velvet color and the therapy started once again and soon you were being forced to take pills to calm yourself down. So every morning you wake up, get ready and just before you head off to school – a 20 minute walk since you're just 16 and can't drive and _he _refuses to take you – you go into the kitchen cabinet and grab that ugly orange container that was long abandoned and pop the antimanic pills like they're pieces of candy that make you feel like a different person entirely.

In fact, they made you feel like you were spacing out from everything and everyone and eventually people were, shockingly, starting to notice. You hate these pills because no matter if you have psychological problems you love being happy and you like being who you are. So you stop taking them, and you hide them in your own bathroom closet where you were sure your dad wouldn't look because you had "girl things" in there and he didn't necessarily want to see.

When you came home and the pills were on the counter it was all over for you.

He yelled at you for hours on end it seemed, until his voice ran hoarse and you were backed up against the wall with your hands over your ears and tears streaming down your cheeks because you absolutely couldn't stand yelling and screaming. And then he yelled something at you, you couldn't quite remember what it was but it was rude and made you _snap. _Your father didn't like it one bit because one second he was screaming, the next he's beating you, slapping you, kicking you and you just want it to bloody **s-t-o-p. **But he didn't.

You're pretty sure you blacked out because then next thing you know you're lying down in a pile of glass and every inch of your body hurts and you're alone. You sat up, sore and cheeks caked with tears and then the memories of the night before comes back at you, hurtling towards you and it finally hits you like a brick wall. You cry some more, so many tears that you were sure the ocean was lingering in you and immediately you begun thinking about how cool that was. But the pain and the sorrow that night's occurrence overwhelmed it and before you knew it a shard of glass was pressed to your wrist and you slashed and sliced away; pain had never felt so good before.

_(When you didn't go to school that day, Jade texted you and asked if you were okay.)_

_(You "were fine, just sick D:")_

In a way, when you reflect on your actions when you were just a freshman in Hollywood Arts, you believe you were trying to kill yourself and do your father a favor. But now you're a junior and the scars are still on your wrists mingling with the new ones because you just can't get enough of it and it feels so damn good you can't stop; yet no one _ever _notices them. They're a scream out for help, for love and for care that no one hears, no one sees. No one but your father – who still beats you – and sometimes Jade becomes skeptical of you.

You realize you need help.

_But you don't __**want **__it at the time, so you don't get it._

Today, today is the three year anniversary of your mother and Lucas's death and you're sitting at the kitchen table alone, replaying the last conversation you had with her in your head like a broken record, a red velvet cupcake sitting next to you, rivaling your hair, and two tubes of fingernail polish on the other side. Your father has gone to work and you have 30 minutes left until you have to go to school and you don't feel like going because this day usually occurs on a Saturday or weekend where you can be alone and not have to worry about having your happy-go-lucky mask up. You can sit in your room all day, your _ohsocolorful _room look at the scrap book you had when you were thirteen.

You had to go. Your father would surely kill you if you didn't.

And you looked at the two rivaling nail polishes – one black, the other yellow. Normally, the color black wouldn't exist on your nails and instead, it would have been replaced by another color that was another 10 bricks in your happy, insane border you had around yourself when with your friends and at school. You want to paint them yellow, because that was the color you had painted them when you were talking to your mother that evening. Besides, black was Jade's thing and not yours. Black was bold, daring and dominant and you were none of those things. But black also emitted sorrow and unhappiness and you figured, what the hell – maybe today…maybe today, it was time to get noticed.

_Because people notice what color your nails are when you paint them according to your outfit._

Robbie's grandmother had made a comment that almost sent you in a fit of tears when you had offered to come over her house with him. It rang in your head as well, loitering with that of the fading memories of Carol Valentine and Lucas and every time you hear it, it makes your heart ache and you want to sob all over again but you don't because you couldn't ruin your makeup and have to start over again – you couldn't have your eyes get all red and puffy before school starts because you don't want people to notice right away.

"_Don't you hate your mother?" _

"_I love my mother!"_

"_A girl doesn't dye her hair that color unless she has psychological problems!"_

"_My hair color has nothing to do with my psychological problems!"_

So this time, you painted them **black.**

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><p><strong>This is going to have a second chapter and depending on if I can think of a solid plot, I might continue further than that. How'd I do on this one? :) I wasn't sure because of the POV I put it in…Leave your feedback! <strong>


	2. Tear Drops Tell a Story

_::Tear Drops Tell a Story::_

You were the first one to realize something was remotely different with the red-haired girl as she trudged into the school early that morning. It seemed like an aurora of sorrow was surrounding her and you raised your eyebrows skeptically at her with your coffee cup brought up to your face but she didn't even stop to say hi to anyone. She just slipped right passed you, Beck, Andre and Vega and your mind immediately registered something was wrong with your best friend but Beck had convinced you enough to stay back and let her be for a few. Needless to say, you didn't quite want too…

_But Beck's lips could be extremely convincing._

And the more you thought about it, the more you realized it was probably nothing and the Cat they all knew and…yeah, would be back before one could snap their fingers. Yet there was this ever so loud and obnoxious voice in the back of your head telling you that that was not going to happen, and it was taunting you so much during Sikowitz's class that you almost grabbed the scissors out of your satchel and wield it at yourself so the thoughts would at least stop and you knew that sounds ridiculous but hey, why the hell not.

What made it worse, was that Cat didn't show up for homeroom either and that really set those bloody thoughts into a riot. So you tried to pay attention to whatever Sikowitz was saying about those damned coconuts that gave him "visions" but it just wasn't working and you asked if you could be excused to go to the bathroom. Really though, you got up out of your seat and just announced that you were going to the restroom and he didn't really mind whatsoever. Even if he did, you wouldn't care.

_Because honestly, you couldn't give a fuck about the rules._

_(Who does?)_

This was evidently, another reason why he was your absolute favorite teacher and that didn't happen very often. In fact, it hadn't happened once.

No teacher was your favorite (save Sikowitz) because they were all the same. They were all boring, they cared so greatly about the school rules that it made you want to put yourself in a Saw movie and cut your arm off or something because you just couldn't stand them when they were sticklers. Sticklers and shrinks, two things that made the top of your "Things I Hate" list of many more to come. Like cramps, or bras that hooked in the front…or when the shrimp tails were still attached to the fucking shrimp when they were served at restaurants. Really, what the hell is that about?

Eventually you find yourself wandering into empty classrooms or the restrooms where you think Cat would be in but you're wondering the whole time why you're even bothering anymore. Since when did you care about what other people felt, or what was wrong with them? Whatever their problem was, they could handle it on their own.

_(Yet this was _Cat_ you were talking about – the very same girl you knew since you were five.)_

_(The very same girl that you actually considered to be a little sister)_

So you sigh when you enter the very last bathroom on the other side of the school, expecting it to be completely vacant like the other three you had inspected. But it's to your relief that you finally spot the girl in which you were searching for, standing over one of the sinks with her hands clutching the counter and her head bowed so you can't see her face but you're sure that the anguished sobs are not your imagination. You felt a small tinge bad when you rolled your eyes and walked forward, but you couldn't help yourself – you were pretty sure Vega didn't roll her eyes when she "comforted" you when you broke up with Beck, but this was just you and if anyone was offended they'd just have to get the fuck over it already.

However, somehow you knew that this was different and there was no way that you could get out of it now that you locked the bathroom door so no one else would come in and that you're seated upon the dirty counter beside her. You haven't said a word to her because quite honestly, you've never been in this situation (let alone with her), and you have no clue of what to say and you're sure she wouldn't want to hear "everything will be okay." Because of course, that was never proven to be true.

Nevertheless you sit there and you listen to her sob her heart out and then suddenly she's on the counter next to you, her arms around your shoulders and her face is buried in your collarbone and you have no idea what else to do but hug her back and you just can't help but notice that for once, her nails are painted an identical black color, just like yours were. For a while you don't say anything; you just wait and wait until her wails quiet down to soft sniffles and a little bit of tears and you were sure you were doing the right thing because you weren't pressuring her into telling you what was wrong like most people would. That gave you a tiny speck of confidence in this entire situation, and just a small surge of pride. Who'd have thought that you, Jadelyn West, could actually be quite considerate when it came to best friends?

And then all of the sudden, you noticed _them. _Overlapping slashes and lines decorating her wrist; some only scars and others a surging red color and your sympathy was suddenly overwhelmed with anger and horror.

"Cat!" You practically shouted, making her jump away from you quite suddenly, her eyes puffy and red. You snatched one of her wrists with a bold grip (she only struggled slightly), and stared down at it in what one would call disbelief. "What the hell is this? You're cutting yourself?"

"I have been" She said, tugging slightly away – but you only tightened your grip until the skin around it noticeably paled because you're starting to get worried now. "For the past three years."

"For the past three years? Are you absolutely insane? Are you _stupid_? How could you do that to yourself?"

_Okay, so maybe you weren't that great with comforting people…_

Cat ripped her arm away from you with a surprising amount of strength, tucking it to her stomach and sliding off the counter and away from you; hurt etched across her face. She looked down, breaking your penetrating glare and casting her eyes to the horribly tiled floor beneath her cherry red pumps. "Because it feels good" She muttered, her voice just slightly hoarse and you almost had to lean forward to hear her. "It's an escape to things you know? From life, from…from…" She suddenly stopped speaking all together.

"Well?"

"What?"

"What were you saying!" You asked her through clenched teeth, your patience running so incredibly thin. But your mind was too wrapped around what you had saw on her wrist to do anything that involved yelling, though you so badly wanted too at the moment that you thought your head was going to explode into tiny little bits. If only life was that cool…

"Oh right…um…" Cat swallowed, looking up at you with slightly guarded chocolate eyes. Her lower lip was quivering almost dangerously, threatening to emit more and more wails – you were prepared for it, but it had never come. "Do you promise not to judge me? Please? I need someone to actually keep theirs."

"Just tell me, you know you can trust me." You said, your voice a little bit harsher than you intended. But you were getting impatient; you needed to know what the hell was going on because if you didn't…things could get worse. "We met in Pre K, and did Broadway together. Honestly…"

For a while, Cat stared directly into your face before once again averting her gaze and you wanted nothing more than to force her to look at you because it was such a fetish of yours when people didn't make eye contact with you when you spoke to them. "I went to Robbie's grandmother's house the other day and she asked me if I hated my mother because I dyed my hair this color" She picked up a lock of her hair and twiddled with it with her fingers absent mindedly.

You held up your hand, indicating her to stop because this made absolutely no sense to you and you were beginning to get confused and when you were confused and impatient something bad was bound to sprout. "You cut because of _that_?"

"No-"

"Okay, what the hell? You're joking aren't you? I mean I know you're sensitive and stuff but that's no reason to go ahead and slash your wrists open!" You jumped off of the counter, pierced eyebrow raised.

Before you could get another word in, she interrupted you. "Jade my mother died three years ago. And my brother"

Dead. Silence.

You were so struck dumb that you had no idea what to even say. Your jaw had dropped and you were staring down at the shorter girl with widened gray eyes and your brow was furrowed and no matter what you did you couldn't utter a single word. Part of you was confused because Cat had mentioned her brother so frequently that you automatically assumed he was alive – how would he have been able to do all the crazy stunts he had pulled (like when she told you and everyone else that he had been stabbed in Japan, shot by their Uncle Jesse, bit her toe, etc) if he was dead? Was she making these ridiculous, comical stories up just so she had something to talk about? Were they a cry for much needed attention?

_If it was, that had failed – because no matter what the story she always received weird looks, even from you._

"I haven't told anyone because I didn't want people to pity me or treat me different; even though they already do…Like I'm some sort of psycho, and I am. Really…I do have emotional problems like that" Her petite shoulders were brought up in an indifferent shrug. "My mother told me she would never leave me with my father the day before she and Lucas went to New York for her Broadway performance. She said she would never leave me here alone with someone who hates me and who verbally abuses me because of my mental state and she lied straight to my face and I hate her! I hate her because she broke her promise, when she swore she wouldn't!"

Cat was now beyond crying and whilst she was in the midst of speaking you drew her into a hug so tightly you could have crushed her. She clung to you like never before and with tears running down your own cheeks you rocked her back and forth in the most comforting rhythm that you could manage.

"My father's abuse gets worse and worse every day and sometimes I wonder how I even manage. He hits me and screams at me and he says that he would rather me dying instead of my brother…Sometimes I think that makes sense. I mean, I would rather it too…" You felt her inhale deeply against you. "But don't worry about it okay? I'm fine" She suddenly pulled away from you but before she could get any further you grabbed her wrist, attempting to ignore the way the scars felt against your fingertips, and yanked her out of the bathroom and clear out of the school without a word.

"Jade? Where -?"

"Get in the car" You ordered her; you had the keys to Beck's truck and you supposed he wouldn't mind you borrowing it for a minute or two for a situation like this. Or he could go off without knowing you had even taken it in the first place – you'd be coming back anyway.

"But what are we doing? We can't just cut class we could get detention and oh my god if I get detention…" Cat rambled on within the seat as you begun speeding out of the lot and in the direction of her home; anger pulsing through your veins. How could someone be so…so cruel to _Cat? _She was the sweetest person you had ever known; not that you would admit to you thinking that.

"You don't have to worry about that, alright?" You said rigidly, glaring at her from the corner of your eye before averting your attention back to the obsidian road before you.

There was a brief silence.

You decided to speak up because you noticed that Cat wasn't going to anytime soon; she was looking down at her lap where she was fiddling with her finely polished black nails and you swore you saw another tear cascade from her cheeks. "Hey, Cat?" You ask cautiously.

"Hmm?"

"Does he ever…" You cleared your throat. "Does he ever…_do things_ to you?"

Another dreadful silence took over the van, and you found your knuckles growing paler and paler as the seconds ticked by. You've had enough of it, and when you had halted in front of her home, you unbuckled and looked over at her. "Cat. Answer me."

She shook her head and this time, you weren't imagining when you saw tears run down her cheeks. But she refused to look at you, and instead looked at her own home through the passenger side window almost fearfully. "No, not him."

"_Not him?_" You asked sharply as the two of you got out of the car and began way toward the house. Cat fumbled with the keys in her hand, and at least once she had dropped them, twice got the wrong key out of many (you had to fight rolling your eyes).

"Daddy has poker nights see…But I don't really want to talk about that." She explained quietly as she finally pushed the door open into a relatively normal guising house. If you hadn't known what occurred every day you would have thought it was still most peaceful house you had ever stepped foot in.

_Besides Beck's RV of course._

"Uhm…What are we doing here, Jade?"

"Came here to get something" You answer her, storming through the one story house and into Cat's personal bathroom. You rummaged through the closet, every single nook and cranny until you found what you were looking for. A small, silver blade and beside it, a razor. Expeditiously you snatched it up and you held it above your head because as soon as the other girl realized what you were doing she made a dive for it and fresh tears were pouring from her eyes and your heart must have broken into a thousand tiny pieces all over again just by glancing at her and hearing her pleas. "You're not getting these back until you've decided to get some help" You tell her, voice monotonous yet at the same time, softer than before.

"But I…I need it Jade, don't you understand! It's my solitude from everything! From my Hell of a life!" She shouted at you, sobbing and hiccupping.

"Look at yourself! You're begging for a razor and a knife – don't you see it's not making things any better? It's making things worse Cat! You're only hurting yourself more than you think"

"You can't take the only thing I have left from me, Jade! You just can't, please" By the looks of it, it appeared your friend was on the brink of having a full out panic attack.

"Only thing you have left…?" You repeated slowly, raising your pierced eyebrows skeptically and attempting to hold back the tears rimming your eyes because you had to be strong for her. "Cat, these stupid things aren't all you have left! You have me, okay? You have Beck, Robbie, Andre, and I hate to say it but even Vega. We've been through life together, ever since we were little – you've always helped me with my family problems and now it's about time I do the fucking same and goddamn it Cat if you want to you can room with me. Open your eyes, _I'm doing you a favor._"

She stared at you with wide, red and puffy eyes and a quivering bottom lip for the longest time and drew back her hand that she had outstretched for the tools loitering in your hands. Her eyes held longing for them midst over the descending tears. Mentally smirking within your success you grabbed her palm with your free one and dragged her from the room, desperately trying to ignore the sudden weeps coming from behind you. You dropped the items in one of the sewer drains, looked back at Cat and opened your arms in which she gradually melted into you again, clinging so ferociously that you didn't know she had it in her. "If you need me, whenever, I'm just a ring away alright? I'll make sure that he won't touch you again"

She nodded against your shoulder.

_You forced her to stay at your house that night, and gradually, it became a frequent thing. All the while, you stuck to your promise – you meant every single word._

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><p><strong>Bleh…this wasn't that great because I really didn't know what to do haha. Hoped you like it though! I'm stopping here, sorry : Review!**


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